Chapter Ten
It was already half an hour later by the time Meng Wangzhou finished tidying the long table.
Standing in the center of the courtyard, he performed a set of knock-off Tai Chi under the pretense of aiding digestion. From shuffling cards and stacking the Great Wall to drawing tiles and laying out a winning hand, Meng Wangzhou spent nearly ten minutes moving from the courtyard’s central skylight all the way to the eaves of the front hall.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
After eavesdropping for what felt like ages, Meng Wangzhou finally sensed something was off.
He spun in place, then suddenly had an idea. He drew a bucket of water from the skylight and carried it to the front hall to change the fish tank’s water.
The front hall of Time Hall was always used for receiving guests. The visitors were special—either fellow antique clock collectors or dealers trading in second-hand timepieces. As such, the front hall had been designed from the start as a semi-enclosed, private tea seating area.
When Meng Wangzhou entered with the bucket, the main lights in the tea area were off. Only a few overhead lamps shone with clear purpose, casting their beams directly onto the screen.
Ji Qinghe sat in an armchair near the screen, waiting for the water to boil.
Still adjusting to the dim light, Meng Wangzhou nearly stumbled. Steadying the wooden bucket in his hand, he glanced around and asked knowingly, “Producer Shen left already?”
Ji Qinghe looked up but didn’t respond.
Beside him lay his gold-rimmed, thin-framed glasses, which he had removed at some point. The celadon teacup still held a shallow pool of brown tea, as if he had been drinking alone in silence for a long time.
Meng Wangzhou didn’t forget why he had come. He retrieved a fine-mesh net from under the tea seat, skillfully scooped up all the goldfish in the tank, and placed them by the tea tray.
“Didn’t you say she was an old friend?” He glanced sideways at Ji Qinghe while efficiently changing the water and cleaning the tank. “Seems more like a one-time acquaintance.”
The water in the kettle finally boiled, bubbling with the sound of rolling heat.
Ji Qinghe lowered his gaze to the goldfish thrashing in the net, seemingly oblivious to Meng Wangzhou’s words.
Seeing no response, Meng Wangzhou switched topics: “Are you two planning to collaborate on a TV series for the old man?”
He had been itching to ask this all evening, nearly bursting with curiosity. “You’ve had me tidy up the neighboring courtyard recently, which probably means you plan to stay in Beijing long-term. If it weren’t for this collaboration with Producer Shen, I can’t think of any other reason you’d suddenly return to Beijing.”
Meng Wangzhou returned the struggling goldfish to the tank and muttered to himself, “So your reluctance and deliberate aloofness—is that you playing hard to get with Producer Shen?”
Convinced he had found the right answer, the man clicked his tongue and teased, “Producer Shen must have stormed off because of you. Ji Qinghe, let me tell you, you can’t chase girls like that—it’s a surefire way to end up in the friend zone.”
Ji Qinghe’s gaze met Meng Wangzhou’s through the celadon teacup. His typically impassive expression flickered with a hint of surprise. “Was it that obvious?”
Meng Wangzhou paused, then backtracked. “Not really.”
“It’s just that I’ve known you long enough to recognize when you’re acting out of character. Something unusual must be going on.” He shakily picked up the teacup and took a sip. “But weren’t you always obsessed with restoring clocks, finding joy in conquering time? Where did you even meet Producer Shen?”
When Ji Qinghe remained silent, Meng Wangzhou, as usual, continued talking to himself. “I must have been blind. I always thought if you ever got married, it’d either be an arranged match or some girl seeing through your defenses, taking the initiative, and making it a done deal…”Before she could finish speaking, Ji Qinghe stood up and left.
Meng Wangzhou stared, dumbfounded: "..."
What's wrong? Did I hit a nerve?
——
Meanwhile, Shen Qianzhan, having stormed off in anger, drove straight out of the narrow alley of the courtyard house.
Beijing’s evening rush hour had already ended, but the city’s liveliness and bustle showed no signs of fading.
Now alone, driving against the flow of the glittering river of lights in this bustling human world, she couldn’t help but feel a touch of desolate loneliness.
She turned on the radio, tuning it to the traffic channel, stopping and starting under the guidance of countless traffic lights. Forty minutes later, she arrived at the underground garage of her residential complex.
After parking, Shen Qianzhan gathered her coat and backpack into her arms in one messy bundle and slammed the car door shut.
As soon as the door closed, a file slipped from the gap between her backpack and coat, landing at her feet as if staging a deliberate fall.
She glanced down—it was the Endless Year chronicle compiled by Su Zan.
Remembering the emotional entanglements between Old Ji and the founder of Endless Year that Ji Qinghe had mentioned earlier that evening, Shen Qianzhan crouched down, picked up the materials, and took them back to her apartment.
Just as she stepped out of the elevator, she was stunned by the mountain of piled-up packages before her.
Her sluggish brain took a few seconds to recall—earlier that day, she had received a call from the property management, saying they had delivered all her packages to her doorstep.
Over the years of striving in Beijing, Shen Qianzhan had accumulated quite a bit of assets.
Aside from a second-hand BMW X5, she owned a 200-square-meter apartment. Except for the mortgage on the apartment, she was essentially free of financial burdens—she only had to worry about feeding herself.
Unlocking the door and entering, she first arranged the packages neatly in the entryway.
When she had bought this apartment, Shen Qianzhan had been driven by the idea of living here until her old age, gritting her teeth and splurging on a 200-square-meter suite that satisfied her need for space.
One elevator per household, smart and comfortable living.
After organizing the packages, she sat on the entryway rug, panting like a dog.
Before she could catch her breath, Su Zan’s voice call came through.
Shen Qianzhan glanced at the screen and answered on speakerphone.
Su Zan asked, "Sis Qianzhan, why did you just get home?"
Shen Qianzhan’s apartment door was equipped with a camera. Due to her frequent business trips, the device was linked not only to her phone but also to Su Zan’s. Any movement at the door would be immediately reported.
Instead of answering directly, she asked, "What’s up?"
"Not exactly official business," Su Zan said. "I took Qianqian to a dinner gathering tonight and ran into Sister Ai Yi."
Shen Qianzhan raised an eyebrow, vaguely guessing that with Ai Yi, the troublemaker, present, Su Zan’s evening probably hadn’t gone well.
Sure enough, Su Zan’s tone shifted, sounding utterly aggrieved: "Our Qianqian has been having a tough time lately, and I don’t know what got into Sister Ai Yi. She spent the whole night pretending to praise while subtly putting her down, making insinuations all evening. In the end, she even spread rumors, saying Qianqian’s chance to make a comeback is only temporary, that Thousand Lights has recently connected with Endless Year, and that Qianqian’s fashion resources are finally about to take off."
So that’s what it was...
Shen Qianzhan tore open a package roughly while asking, "Didn’t you take the chance to secure a few more contracts for Xiang Qianqian?"
Thousand Lights was famously protective of its own in the industry. When Shen Qianzhan was managing Xiang Qianqian, she personally attended every drinking session and dinner, delivering flattery with every toast, leaving those opportunistic sponsors too incapacitated to even lift a finger.
Su Zan followed her example, rarely bringing Xiang Qianqian along unless it was an important occasion.
For Su Zan to bring Xiang Qianqian to tonight’s gathering, with Ai Yi also present, there must have been at least three major backers at that table."Current investors aren't fools," Su Zan sighed. "Using a tainted artist carries risks. I think unless Qianqian can really secure the fashion resources from Endless Year, this predicament won't be resolved." After speaking, he muttered to himself: "The brand ambassador for Endless Year's China region is Chu Sisi—the one who's always competing with our Qianqian over who's prettier. Brand endorsements usually change yearly, and by my calculations, Chu Sisi's contract should be expiring soon."
"Hey, Sister Zhan. Do you think if we put some effort toward Mr. Ji, there might be a chance to secure it?" Su Zan finished, then immediately doubted himself: "But I don't even have Mr. Ji's contact information..."
Shen Qianzhan paused while removing plastic packaging, then felt a surge of delight: "That's simple. Qianqian doesn't have any schedules recently, right? Have her come to the company tomorrow. I'll take her to buy a watch."
—
Early the next morning.
Su Zan arrived early at Shen Qianzhan's office, holding an iced Americano, waiting for her to show up so he could inquire in detail about the "watch-buying plan" and its strategic objectives.
Unfortunately, he waited until the iced Americano had warmed up from the heating, yet Shen Qianzhan was nowhere to be seen.
Shen Qianzhan had gone to Miyun early that morning.
The news that she was recently looking for screenwriters to rewrite the script was no secret in the industry. Before going to bed last night, a director she had previously worked with recommended a top screenwriter.
Shen Qianzhan had long heard of this person's reputation, so after a brief communication last night and learning that the screenwriter was currently on set in Miyun, she drove there first thing in the morning for a face-to-face chat.
By the time she returned, it was nearly the end of the workday.
Before Shen Qianzhan could even warm her office chair, she took Xiang Qianqian straight to Time Hall. It wasn't until they were on the road that she finally had time to explain to Su Zan her unusual encounter on the Connoisseur app.
After listening, Su Zan wore an expression as if he'd eaten something foul: "Sister Zhan, I wouldn't blame you if you just told me you and Mr. Ji were secretly colluding, but making up these stories is just pointless."
Shen Qianzhan was admiring the manicure she'd just gotten in Miyun. Without looking up, she replied, "Believe it or not."
Only the more perceptive Xiang Qianqian felt uneasy: "Sister Zhan, I think Mr. Ji is probably only interested in investing in the project. If you take me to discuss endorsement resources, could it backfire?"
Shen Qianzhan finally shifted her admiring gaze and glanced at Xiang Qianqian, saying, "Who said I'm taking you to discuss endorsement resources? I'm not your agent; securing resources isn't my responsibility."
Xiang Qianqian was taken aback and looked to Su Zan for help.
Knowing Shen Qianzhan's ways all too well, Su Zan pursed his lips and answered, "She's just taking you to buy a watch, so she has a legitimate reason to see Mr. Ji."
As for the endorsement... Su Zan comforted himself, thinking that as long as the project investment could be secured, the endorsement resources might just fall into their laps.
—
Meng Wangzhou, who hadn't expected to see Shen Qianzhan again so soon, was stunned for a full three seconds before inviting everyone to sit down.
Compared to Meng Wangzhou's awkwardness, Shen Qianzhan was much more at ease. She pointed at Xiang Qianqian, who was wearing sunglasses and surveying the surroundings, and said, "My friend is here to buy a watch. I'm here to get a watch repaired."
Meng Wangzhou didn't mention that he usually handled general watch repairs.
He scratched his head, somewhat troubled: "Qinghe doesn't take on work. Why don't you go find him directly? I'll take care of your friend."
Shen Qianzhan had been hoping for exactly that. Picking up her bag, she pushed open the hidden door with practiced ease and headed toward Ji Qinghe's studio.
It was dusk, with the sun setting in the west and a thin mist beginning to settle.Ji Qinghe sat at the workbench, tilting his head to listen to the sound of the gears after adjustment.
A gentle chime of wind bells reached his ears, followed by the unmistakable click of high heels that seemed utterly unaware of the concept of subtlety. Frowning, he turned to see Shen Qianzhan striding across the courtyard, making her way toward him with confident steps.
The once-irritating tapping now resembled the precise ticking of a clock’s minute hand, each step landing perfectly on the measure of time.
Shen Qianzhan smiled brightly, as if the unpleasant parting from the previous night had never occurred, her tone natural and familiar: “Mr. Ji, we meet again.”
Ji Qinghe removed his glasses, his dark eyes fixed on her for a few seconds before revealing a faint, almost imperceptible smile: “I’m not entirely surprised.”
Shen Qianzhan chose to ignore his remark, blinking as she glanced at the dismantled clock face before him, now reduced to unrecognizable parts: “Are you repairing a watch, Mr. Ji?”
This time, Ji Qinghe didn’t bother to respond. He leaned back, adopting a relaxed and casual posture as he waited to see what she would do next.
With no response from him, Shen Qianzhan had no choice but to skip ahead. She pulled three completely different watches from her bag: “I’m here to have a watch repaired. Which one interests you, Mr. Ji?”
Ji Qinghe lowered his gaze.
Before him lay three watches, ranging from a child’s digital watch to an automatic mechanical watch and a quartz watch.
A faint ache began to throb at his temples.
He glanced at the somewhat dated children’s digital watch and raised his eyes without a word.
Though he said nothing, his gaze seemed to ask: “Are you mocking me?”
Shen Qianzhan curled the corner of her lips, propping her chin on one hand as she gave him a deliberately mischievous wink: “Mr. Ji, you must have a short memory. That night, you were practically ready to give me your heart, and now you won’t even repair a watch for me?”
She took a step closer, hooking her little finger as she added: “I’m a very practical and utilitarian person. If we can’t be partners, then we’ll just have to be adversaries.”
OpenNovel